Loving the writing life. So happy to surround myself with hardworking writers. Enjoy this post. And if you haven’t read Erdrich’s The Blue Jay’s Dance, I highly recommend it. In fact, when asked what my favorite book is, I reply with that book.
This winter, a relentless inverted fog has shrouded our valley. We are weeks into this trend; I’ve stopped paying much attention to the forecast which, according to our weather folk, is simply: “Gray.”
From the table where I write, the black relief of deciduous trees against a white surround looks like the smoky aftermath of war.
To find sun I could drive up out of the inversion to four or five thousand feet. Many people do this. Above the white sea of our valley cars line the shoulder, their drivers standing next to the road with faces turned to the light. Up there I’ve seen picnickers on the hoods of cars, games of hacky sack, lawn chairs with umbrellas. On weekends, a driver bound for the very top of the mountain must aim, not unlike Tour de France riders in the mountain stages, through this carnival gauntlet of parked sun-seekers.
But I don’t much…
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